The Séance
by DarkPrincess128
Summary: The Giver has an old memory of a séance and decides to perform one to try to contact Rosemary...but there's a twist. T, just in case. Complete.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: The Giver does not belong to me.**

The Giver rocked back and forth in his chair after several hours of vigorous training with his successor, a boy named Jonas. There was something about him that put great sadness in him. Perhaps it was the way he looked when The Giver transmitted him a painful memory, or the way he walked out of the room…it was so reminiscent of…

The Giver winced at the memory of his "daughter", his greatest failure. He knew he had made a mistake, that he had trained her too hard towards the beginning…but it was too late to take it back.

Oh, how much he missed her…how much he wanted her back in this world. He would do anything. Why did she have to release herself? If only she were a bit stronger! She could have made it through! Being The Receiver is a burden and it's very painful. But why her…? Why this beautiful child?

If only she were still here…he would take her in his arms and tell her that everything was okay…all these bad memories would never occur in the community again…There were still many things he wanted to say to her, to ask her.

_What is death like?_ He suddenly wondered. It was a random thought, but The Giver couldn't help but ponder it for a moment. He had a memory, far back, about a philosophy regarding life after death…it was called heaven. Even if this community had adjusted into Sameness and nobody remembered old teachings…heaven must still exist. After all, it's not a part of Earth.

If there was a way to contact heaven…then The Giver could talk to Rosemary and ask her all of his questions. There _had_ to be a way to contact heaven. Some distant memory he only had one of?

_Think…think…_

Something vaguely popped in his head. A memory of people sitting in a circle, around a candle…The Giver couldn't perceive the word immediately. The memory was slipping from him. He tried to get it quickly, without missing this chance.

_S…S…se…sea…séance._

A séance. Now that he knew the word, he tried to get more memories of such a thing. The Giver found out he only had one, though, a very distant one…but it would have to do.

If The Giver wanted to talk to his dear daughter, he would have to perform one of these séances. Now, he needed to find a book.

**A/N: Just something a little different. A fair warning: A real séance may not be performed as it will be in later chapters. It's kind of my take on them…not the real way to do it. I won't completely screw it up, but I may alter it a bit to make it make sense. Please review, and ConCrit is always appreciated.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **The Giver is not my book.

Thankfully, there was a book on spirituality in the room. It was, like many other books, covered in dust. It had a lavender cover, so pretty that it made him wish everybody could see colors. There was also a very strange symbol on it. The book, which included a séance section, mentioned materials, procedure, caution, use…

It stated that it worked best with more than one person, but The Giver knew that he was the only one who would want – or, in his case, need – to talk to her. Not to mention that he was the only one that would understand…except maybe Jonas. But he was not going to get involved in this.

Séances looked much more ridiculous than he expected, or hoped for. Since The Giver only had one memory of one – a faded one, at that – he wasn't sure what to expect. But certainly not this. It seemed too…far-fetched to work. Like someone had just made it up. It seemed too unreal. He wondered if this was all just some joke. The thought of being able to talk to the dead seemed wonderful – and if it were so wonderful, it should have been more popular back then. If it had been more popular, he would have more memories of it…which probably means it never worked.

The Giver simply had to hope it would. Even if it didn't…he had to try, at least, to find out. If it did not work, then there was no way to talk to Rosemary. Still, life would go on.

He would need a table and a candle and dim lights. That was it. The former-most was set – there was a coffee table right next to his bed. He could always call up a candle to be brought to his room.

The Giver turned on the speaker. The person spoke, "Yes, Receiver?"

"I need one candle brought to my room."

"Of course, sir. Thank you for your instructions."

He waited only several minutes before a knock on the door jolted him out of his thoughts. The Giver rose slowly and walked to the door, unlocked it, and found a dark-eyed woman staring back at him. She nervously handed him the candle. "Thank you," The Giver said. She nodded and went away.

The Giver closed and re-locked the door, suddenly nervous about what he was about to do. What if something went wrong? What if he calls the wrong spirit and it comes alive and does something dangerous?

_Please. The odds of that are slim._ He told himself. As long as he follows the directions exactly, nothing should go wrong. Unless, of course, it turns out to be a huge hoax and it doesn't work at all…

The Giver was lucky enough to have the luxury of light dimmers in his room instead of ordinary light switches. He never really saw the point in them, but right now, they were turning out to be very useful. One of the directions was to dim the lights so the spirit would not be afraid to come. They could not be completely dark, though. He placed the candle on the table and lit it after somehow finding a match in his desk (_What in the world is this doing here? _He had wondered when he found it). The room was now in the perfect atmosphere. All he had to do now…was the channeling.

**A/N: **I'm not exactly sure how many chapters this will be. Somewhere between 4 and 6, probably. I hope this chapter was satisfactory enough to get a good review out of you (oh my god, that rhymed!). ConCrit is also appreciated.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **The Giver is not my book.

The Giver nervously clasped his hands together and closed his eyes. He found that his voice was trembling when he tried to speak. He couldn't get it to cooperate with him. He cleared his throat in an attempt to speak once again. Finally, his voice came through, louder than he had expected, frightening himself.

"B-Beloved Rosemary, b-be guided by this l-light…" Realizing he had messed it up, he tried it again. "Beloved R-Rosemary, be guided by light of th-this world and visit upon us." When it didn't work, he tried it again, more confidently this time. "Beloved Rosemary, be guided by light of this world and visit upon us. Beloved Rosemary, be guided by light of this world and visit upon us!"

Then, something happened. Words flashed in front of him. He heard nothing and saw only the words that flashed in front of his face.

-To whom do you wish to speak-

The Giver wasn't sure if he had to say his response or just think it. To be sure, he said aloud "Rosemary. She should be residing in heaven at the moment." Who in the world was he speaking to?

-Rosemary-

"Yes…"

-In heaven-

"That should be correct."

-The person you're looking for-

The Giver waited anxiously for the next words to finish this sentence. He wondered what was going on in the world after him. Do they have to search for spirits? Is there one person receiving all these calls? The Giver waited for what seemed like hours for the rest of the sentence.

-Is not here-

"W-What? That's impossible. Rosemary released herself a couple years ago. She should be well in heaven by now."

-Released-

"Yes! Released!" There were tears running down The Giver's face. What was so hard about this concept? Why couldn't the spirit comprehend this?

-If she killed herself-

The Giver cried more at the words being said with such a violent tone. He understood now why nobody used the word "kill" around here anymore…

-Then she doesn't belong in heaven-

"W-What?"

-She is burning-

"BURNING?" The Giver yelled. His dearest Rosemary is burning somewhere? Where?

-Inside Hell-

The Giver was sobbing now. He had no idea what Hell was. No memory at all. "W-What's the difference?"

The spirit hissed with anger and hung up.

**A/N: **This chapter was actually a bit harder than I thought it would be to write. I wasn't sure how to portray the spirit and how to announce to The Giver that his beloved daughter lived in Hell. Please review!


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: **I do not own The Giver.

The Giver sat, confused, in the spot where the spirit had talked to him and then hung up.

_Hell…? Hell? What is Hell? There is no such thing as Hell! Surely I would have a memory of it! _The Giver panicked internally.

He stood up hastily and in doing so, the candle burnt out. He would need to call another match to his room later.

He walked to the shelves of books aligned against the wall of the room and walked straight to the area where the spirituality book had been placed. The books were arranged by subject, so a book about Hell should be somewhere around there. The Giver looked at book after book to check the titles. There were books about ghosts, heaven, spirit mediums…and finally, a book about Hell.

The Giver pulled it out to look at it. He blew on it to get some dust off of the cover and stared at it. It had a burgundy color and gold lining that ran across the border. The title was short and simple: "Hell". Couldn't get more simplistic than that, he supposed.

He sat down in his chair once again and opened the book, looking at the table of contents. The book would describe what Hell looked like, the difference from heaven, the kind of people there, who ruled it, what had to be done to get into Hell, and, of course, how to contact it via medium.

The Giver decided to read all of it. It wasn't too long; the book was approximately 300 pages. He started with what it looked like.

According to the book, Hell was a primarily red and orange land with fire all around. The temperature was quite hot. Human skulls seemed to be the border, like a fence, and a castle was built for where the ruler lived. Pools of hot lava were everywhere that land wasn't. There were no trees or anything besides flat land and the occasional cone-shaped mini-mountain with a sharp peak. It seemed to be a very dismal place.

_This…this is where my sweet Rosemary lives now?_

The kind of people there were the people who had committed "sins" in their lifetime (after looking it up in another book, The Giver found out that sins were actions that were blasphemous, such as murders). As such, murderers and rapists and thieves would go there when they died or got hung. Cruel people in general also tended to go there, too.

_This can't be right! She was so sweet…she never did any bad deeds. There must be some mistake!_

Hell was a place where evil people who committed sins went, apparently. Heaven was for those who had lived lives where they did not commit sins. This answered one of The Giver's questions that he had asked the spirit.

The ruler was Satan, otherwise known as the Devil. Satan was apparently a fallen angel, and that's basically all it said.

To get into Hell, a sin had to be committed, like it was said earlier in the book. A murder, vandalism, assault, rape, etc. could be considered a sin and would send the criminal to Hell when hung or the person died. Right before The Giver almost cried out loud that his daughter had never done such things, he read the final sentence in that section:

"_The greatest sin that will get any person into Hell when committed is suicide, the act of taking one's own life."_

The Giver hung his head in shame. Why had his daughter done this, and why was this such a sin? Why hadn't he found out about Hell earlier, and told his daughter about it? She may not have applied for release at all if he had done that!

Finally, he was at the last section of the book. Apparently, the chant The Giver had said when trying to contact Rosemary the first time only contacted "good" spirits. To contact somebody in Hell, he had to simply talk and ask for the spirit. He didn't have to chant anything. It seemed more like begging to him, but whatever it took to talk to her…

He closed the book and put it back on the shelf. He turned his speaker on and ordered a match to be brought to his room. When it had been done, The Giver sat back on his chair and would try to call the spirit of his daughter one last time.

**A/N: **I don't know if any of that stuff about hell is true, obviously, since I'm still alive. I've heard that committing suicide is the greatest sin, though, so I can say that I'm pretty sure about that. There will be one more chapter and _maybe_ two. Probably one, though. Thanks for reading and please review!


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **Sorry this took so long to update. I'm very prone to writers block. =(

**Disclaimer: **The Giver belongs to its author, and most definitely not me.

The Giver lit the match, almost mesmerized by the way it lit the room this time. He almost laughed when he suddenly remembered there was another match on his desk somewhere, which he had found earlier. But laughter was not appropriate here, and only the sounds of nothing were allowed. And soon his own voice, along with the spirit and hopefully his beloved daughter.

He knew that he didn't have to chant anything, which he thought was kind of strange. You'd think that if you had to channel "bad" spirits, there would be some sort of chant, maybe being harder to say. Or a chant that was more complex and wouldn't reach Hell as easily.

But there was no time for pondering and questioning spirituality now. He simply needed to speak his request in the most somber tone, which shouldn't be of much difficulty. He clasped his hands together, though it may or may not have been needed, and closed his eyes. He spoke quietly yet firmly, hoping to not need to do this several times.

"I wish to speak to Rosemary, whom is residing in Hell," He said once. Nothing happened, to his annoyance. "I wish to speak to Rosemary, whom is residing in the spiritual world named Hell."

Again, the words flashed in front of his eyes, but there was something different about them this time. The words were made of…fire. He supposed he should've expected that, somewhat, considering it's Hell, but it was still very freaky.

-Who is this-

"The Giver, Rosemary's…father." He choked.

-…Please hold-

_What is this, a telephone? _He thought to himself very impatiently. He waited for the words to come back, or something to talk to him, or something. He didn't really know what to expect. His heart was beating uncontrollably fast and his mind and thoughts were racing.

Then…there was a shadow in front of him. It had a face, but it was nothing more than a shadow. It had a body and he could see the details, like what it was wearing and what its hair looked like, but it was not real and he could tell.

It spoke. "F…Father…"

It was Rosemary! Just like he had requested from the spirits. "Rosemary…Why did you do it? What had I done wrong?"

"Father, it was too painful! The memories, the pain of everything. The leadership. I couldn't handle it. It wasn't you; you did wonderfully. It was I. I missed having fun and a good time. With all these memories that were laid upon me, I couldn't think straight anymore. I was done with them, and this world."

The Giver collapsed in front of her. "And is it better now!? Living in a place that's so ugly and dismal, unlike anything you've ever experienced? I tried to make it good and okay, giving you good with the bad. It was my fault. I hadn't done it right for you."

Rosemary bent down in front of him, to meet his eye level. They were both crying. "You did it right, Father. You now have a boy who can satisfy the needs The Receiver is required to have. No, I'm not in a good place. But I'm happier here, with no more memories, then I was down there."

"H-How can you be happy in a place like that?"

She stood up again and motioned for her father to get up as well. "I suppose it's because I have no duty here, as I am dead. I suffer daily, but I did down there as well. At least now I don't have to be a leader of sorts."

The Giver was angry now. "It was your duty. You were The Receiver. You needed to be in pain. It wasn't me. You were the one who was supposed to be strong in everything you did, and everything I taught you. But you failed. You put me and so many other people in suffering. The point of The Giver and The Receiver is to stop people from suffering. You did the exact opposite. And now, the new Receiver is somebody who knows of his duties. You obviously never did. He will do a much better job then you ever could have."

"Father…please forgive me…"

"You couldn't handle it."

"I know I couldn't! But please don't forget me!"

"I can't forget you; you are my daughter. But I certainly will never love you."

Rosemary started sobbing, collapsing on the floor. She faded into nothing…and she was gone. The séance hadn't even ended right – somebody was supposed to say bye.

But it hadn't mattered how it ended. It only mattered what occurred. And that girl certainly wasn't what The Giver thought she was.

He blew out the candle, returning to the sullen darkness he was going to be stuck in for eternity.

**A/N: **I apologize if you were hoping for a happy ending, because this is certainly not it. I tried to think of what Rosemary would act like, and she just seems to be in a lot of pain. So I hope you enjoyed the story, and I would greatly appreciate any reviews.


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